Never Forget
by Chillasaur
Summary: TRIGGER WARNING. SELF INJURY. Tumblr prompt by lokidindeed. Loki is depressed after his return to Asgard post-Avengers and attempts to cut out his own heart. Thor saves him just in time. Fluff ensues. Lots of angst. I apologize for every level of suck that this will be, it's my first fanfiction, be nice.


Nights were always hard for Loki. Lonely as he was, they seemed to stretch on endlessly, with little reprieve from the bitter chill that seeped into every fiber of his being and left him trembling and weak. This night was no different, and the trickster found himself with too much unwanted time to think and a pounding in his head that refused to cease. With a resolute sigh, he sat up in the bed and brushed the dark hair back from his forehead. Silver moonlight streamed through the windows on the opposite wall, drops of water streaking the glass in the beginnings of a storm. The soft patter of rain should have been soothing, but it tore at Loki's already frayed nerves and made the hair at the back of his neck stand on end.

It had been raining the night of his return to Asgard as well…a byproduct of the anger of his brother. _No…not his brother_… he corrected himself firmly. It was a lie he could no longer stomach. Briefly, he wondered where the thunderer was, and who had been unlucky enough to incur his wrath this time, but quickly pushed the thought from his mind. He didn't have the energy to do down that path tonight.

Pushing the sheets back, Loki swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood shakily. Once his thoughts turned to Thor, it was nearly impossible to force them away. Perhaps it was just as well…he deserved every torture he received, after all. He padded softly over to the armchair in front of the window and settled down to watch the storm with both arms wrapped securely around himself, wincing slightly as the first rumble of thunder shook the frame of the window. There had been thunder that night too, more violent than any he had heard before.

He remembered vividly the harsh grip his brother had held on his wrist, digging bruises into soft flesh as he wrenched the younger along the repaired Bifrost and into the throne room where their father…no, _Thor's _father waited. He remembered the chill of the marble floor as he was forced to his knees before the king, and the bite of the metal mouth guard that had not yet been removed. He remembered the tears that streaked Frigga's cheeks as she knelt in front of him and embraced him gently, whispering words of forgiveness that hurt him more than her anger would have. He remembered the way Odin had simply stared at him for what felt like hours, as though he believed he could see into his adopted son's features and perhaps find the intent of his actions there. More clearly than he remembered anything else, Loki remembered the disappointment etched into his brother's features, and this caused him more pain than even his mother's tears, as though someone had slipped a dagger between his ribs and into his heart and twisted it. And so, after the Allfather had declared that his punishment had not yet been decided, that was exactly what he had done. Or, rather…had _tried _to do.

Thor had steered Loki to his own long-forgotten, untouched chambers, removed the shackles and the mouth guard, and left without a single word or a backwards glance. In the entirety of his life, Thor had never once completely ignored him…it only strengthened his resolve. With trembling fingers, Loki had locked the door and retrieved the think blade from his belt. Funny…they had not thought to remove it from his possession. The complicated buttons and buckles of his armor proved a hassle, but eventually it had fallen to the floor, leaving Loki's torso bare. His entire frame shook violently now, with the knowledge of what he was about to do, but he refused to waver. He would succeed in this if nothing else. He pressed the blade against his chest, directly over his heart. He would cut the infernal thing out so he would never have to feel any of these damned emotions again. After all, hadn't they gotten him into this mess? Exerting the slightest amount of pressure, he watched as a thin ribbon of blood bubbled up on either side of the glittering metal. The stinging sensation was light, the cut superficial to what was to come later. Taking a deep, shuddering breath, Loki pressed the blade in deeper, a soft gasp escaping past his clenched teeth as he dragged the metal across his skin. The next cut was angled differently, deeper, the pain searing now as the blade scraped bone. Before he could make a third incision, the blade clattered to the floor from too-white fingers, smeared with blood and trembling too hard to hold it any longer. Loki's breath came in short, shallow pants, and slowly, he lowered his gaze to examine the deep gashes that marred his chest. Hysterical laughter spilled from his lips, the sound turning into a sob halfway through. How ironic…if he looked at it just so, his head turned to the side and his vision blurred with tears, it almost appeared as if...as if he had carved a "T" over his heart.

Loki snapped back to the present with a start, breath shallow and eyes shining with unshed tears. Unconsciously, he trailed his fingers lightly over the scar that mutilated the skin of his chest. It felt too warm to him, almost uncomfortably so, and reminded him of Thor. But he didn't want to think about Thor anymore...Thor certainly didn't think about _him _anymore. Since his departure from his chambers all those long weeks ago, he had neither seen nor heard anything of his estranged brother, and Loki was loathe to admit how much it had affected him. He was constantly on the verge of tears for reasons he couldn't name, and sleep evaded him more than usual. His heart ached to see his brother, to hear his voice, and he was tired of aching. Idly, he stood as he toyed with the blade he had picked up from the table beside the chair. Perhaps he would try again…and this time, he wouldn't stop until this damned thing was out of his chest. There would be no more pining. He would do the job Odin should have done long ago.

This time, as Loki pressed the blade against his skin, there was no hesitation, and his hand remained steady. Soon, the metal was slick with the blood that poured from the deep lacerations that cut through to the bone, and still Loki did not stop. His legs buckled beneath him, and he slid to the floor. The blade slipped from his fingers just out of reach, and if he had had the energy, he might have laughed. _Pity…_he thought to himself as his vision began to blur around the edges. He hadn't managed to cut the blasted thing out after all…no matter. The intended effect was inevitable anyway. Already, he could feel his heart rate slowing, his muscles were weak, and his breaths came short and shallow. He hadn't expected it to be this…pleasant. Soothing. Perhaps death was the better of two options after all.

By the time the door of his chambers clicked open, Loki was almost too far gone to hear it. The noise sounded far away, and seemed to echo. He reached for the strength to lift his eyelids he hadn't realized had slipped closed, but it was useless. Dimly, he registered a panicked, low voice calling his name, and strong, warm arms cradling his too-heavy head. The touch was familiar in a distant way…as though it had been ages since he had felt it. _Thor…_a voice whispered in the back of his mind, and the thought made his eyes flutter open. There the big oaf was, crystalline blue eyes shining brightly with tear tracks marring his cheeks. Thor was…crying? No, that was ridiculous. Thor would be glad to see him gone. Relief touched his brother's features, but it gave way to sorrow soon after as he brushed a few wayward strands of dark hair back from Loki's forehead. Thor opened his mouth to speak, and Loki watched with vague interest, but caught only a few words. "Sorry" and "my fault" and "fix this" and…"love?" He couldn't possibly have heard that right.

"Leave me, Thor," Loki rasped. "I do not wish for your company, just as I'm sure you do not wish for mine. I will not be a burden to your or your father any longer." A lie, of course. Loki wished for his brother's company more than anything, but that was why he had done this in the first place, wasn't it? How silly, to wish for something that one could not have.

Thor said nothing for a few moments, simply skimmed Loki's cheekbone a few times with his thumb as the tears continued to spill. Finally, he spoke.

"I will not pretend to understand why you have acted as you have, but surely you must know that you are not a burden to me, or our father." He cut Loki's words of protest off before he had a chance to speak. "I know I have wronged you, and I am truly sorry for it…" Thor's voice wavered slightly, but he pressed on. "This…" Gentle, tentative fingers skimmed the edges of the deep wounds of Loki's chest, "…is my fault and I will never forgive myself for it. But I swear to you, I will fix this. I will fix this, and I will fix _you,_ and the two of us will come out the other side stronger for it. Just as we always have."

Loki felt the tears that had gathered in his eyes spill over. _Damn _Thor and his ability to make Loki _feel._ He didn't want to feel, he wanted no part of it, he wanted this whole ordeal to be over. But in spite of himself, he felt long-forgotten, soft tendrils of affection stir inside him. The foolish, forgiving oaf actually believe he could fix this…could fix Loki. 'Just as we always have,' he had said. His big brother would fix this, and everything would be alright again. And somewhere in the back of his mind…maybe Loki believed it, too. The thought brought fresh tears to his eyes, and, almost childlike in his actions, he clung to the front of the thunderer's shirt and sobbed for the first time in years. Thor stroked his brother's hair and whispered comforting words as Loki cried, his shoulders shaking with the effort.

Nearly half an hour later, the tears finally subsided, leaving Loki feeling weak and exhausted. Thor hadn't moved from his sitting position on the floor, Loki's head in his lap, his fingers toying idly with the dark strands of his brother's hair. Loki felt himself drifting off into sleep, and before he slipped completely into his dreams, he heard the soft, rumbling tones of Thor's voice.

"Sleep well, dearest brother. Never forget that I love you."


End file.
